


A Fine Thief Indeed

by MordorIsCalling



Series: Bilbo Baggins's Greatest Burglary [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bets & Wagers, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Gossipy Dwarves, M/M, One Shot, POV outsiders, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-08 03:54:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21229367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MordorIsCalling/pseuds/MordorIsCalling
Summary: “It’s a great opportunity for a wager, if you ask me!” Everyone looks at the general with great interest. “I bet four gold coins that they’ll announce their courtship tomorrow.”“At the coronation?!” Lyr exclaims, a triumphant glint appearing in his eye, “aw, Zahra, you’re going to lose miserably!”Durin's Folk walk Erebor's halls once again... and they're very much busy with rebuilding the reclaimed kingdom. The restoration is a tedious task, however, and the residents of the Lonely Mountain begin to long for some new tale to excite them, as everyobdy knows the story of the Quest by heart at this point, and well... the King and Master Burglar have always seemed rather close, haven't they?





	A Fine Thief Indeed

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! So here it is, the sequel of my fic "Master Bruglar" :D I'm very sorry for the wait, this work easily could've been ready more than a month ago, but last month was really tough for me, RL hit me hard. I'm a bit better now, thank goodness. (I can't promise being very active in terms of posting works here, though, I've started working on my BA paper, and that's rather time-consuming). 
> 
> This story may be read on its own, I suppose. It focuses mostly on the dwarf OCs being gossipy and cute (although Bilbo and Thorin do make an appearance at one point), but I would recommend reading "Master Burglar" first if you haven't so that you don't miss the funny details :D 
> 
> Huge thanks go to Fist Pump!, who inspired me to write this sequel with their comment:  
_it's going to be funny when the dwarrow realize that Thorin has a thing for Bilbo_  
_"The burglar stole the king's heart!"_  
I gave this idea a bit of a twist, but still, you're about to meet many bagginshield shippers :D 
> 
> Enjoy! :3

Erebor is full of ghosts.

Even though Durin’s Folk have reclaimed the grand kingdom, most of the halls still remain dark and desolate. The gusts of draught blowing through the corridors whisper of danger, their threats quiet but deadly. The silence that lingers almost everywhere suffocates with its malice, making it seem just as if the dragon’s venomous magic has somehow set itself deep into the stone.

There are some parts of the Mountain, however, that are full of the warmth and the light of many torches. There are a few places which are also filled with numerous voices mingling with laughter, and those sounds successfully chase away any echoes of the past darkness and ruin. 

The Upper Feast Hall is one of such locations, and it’s perhaps the place where most brightness and merriment are to be found, for it’s been chosen as the hall where meals are to be served, now that the Company and the Iron Hills army have moved inside the Mountain, and everyone is hard at work while they wait until the roads to the Erebor will be passable again (as the kingdom has been snowed in around a week ago).

Moreover, since it’s only natural that Durin’s Folk prefer eating to always go together with drinking ale and making merry, the Upper Feast Hall has also become a place where the dwarves meet every evening to participate in this form of relaxation after a hard day of work.

Such is now the case with a certain worthy group of Iron Hills dwarves. At one of the tables, there sits quite a notable seven. Some of the group are the finest warriors of general Farí and general Zahra, who himself is among them. Apart from him, master Casir, master Déni, master Tuv and master Lyr are present, as well as Lady Gêr and master Inó. Every member of this small gathering has their pint in front of them, some of them have also finished their meals a little while ago. Therefore, they’re generally in high spirits, even though it seems that some disagreement has arisen, and an animated discussion is held at present. 

“But it _is_ true, and everybody thinks so!” lady Gêr states with certainty so great that she might as well have said that the sun is going to rise tomorrow. 

“No,” master Lyr protests, appearing just as sure of his stand on whatever the matter is, “it makes no sense!”

“Then why would he tend to our king as much as he did?” master Tuv asks, supporting Gêr’s claim, “he did care for the heirs, too! And I swear to you, I swear to you on Mahal’s hammer, when I once held watch over the princes’ room, I heard them call him _auntie Bilbo_!”

Everyone stares at Tuv as if he had just grown two heads, for no one suspects the princes of making such unbecoming and un-princely jokes. Some dwarves shake their heads with disbelief, others snicker at Tuv’s foolishness. 

“But the hobbit did care about our king!” Gêr presses on, “my brother, he’s one of the healers, he talked to Master Óin many times. He told me that Master Óin once said that Master Baggins learned how to tend to wounds only to be His Majesty’s caretaker!”

Some members of the group raise their eyebrows in surprise, for _that_ is definitely no small thing. 

“Aye, and he threw himself between our king and the Defiler’s warg!” Tuv adds, and everyone nods, knowing it to be a fact. 

Young Inó, who previously remained silent, now sighs dreamily and looks up at the ceiling, all starry-eyed. “Oh, isn’t that just so romantic!” he says. 

Lyr scoffs. “And yet, our king did almost threw him from the ramparts!” No opposing argument comes, as no one can deny it. Lyr leans in towards Gêr and Tuv, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “I’ve also heard that he insulted Master Baggins greatly upon entering his home and kept being dismissive of him well into their journey!”

Gêr and Tuv don’t seem to believe that but they fall silent anyway, possibly assessing the likelihood of such things being true. 

“Told you!” Lyr exclaims, already victorious, “this makes no sense!”

“What makes no sense?” a familiar voice asks.

Everyone looks up to see general Farí standing next to the table, holding his pint in his hand and gazing at them with a slight smile and laughing eyes, which are both so characteristic of him. 

“Oh, Farí!” Lyr greets his general, calling him by his first name as he’s allowed to. Zahra and Farí are known to be rather close with their warriors. “Tuv and Gêr believe that His Majesty and Master Burglar have basically fallen for each other.” Lyr gestures at his two opponents in discourse with scorn, his tone making it clear that he seeks the general’s approval in his dismissal of such beliefs. 

Farí moves to sit beside Zahra, appearing not at all surprised. “Well, isn’t it obvious?”

The astonishment on Lyr’s face at being betrayed so makes everyone laugh.

“What!” the dwarf blurts out with his eyes wide. 

“Oh please,” Farí answers, rolling his eyes but smiling kindly anyway, “Bilbo hid in the king’s tent for _days_, and even _spent the nights there_! You’d be a fool not to think anything of it!” 

Lyr still refuses to give up. “Well, it seems they’re barely spending any time together now!” he responds stubbornly. 

The statement is true enough, for everyone knows that Master Burglar now busies himself with the restoration of Erebor’s Library, working together with Master Ori and a few other dwarves. He isn’t seen by the general public that often. If he is, it’s only during meal times and usually in the Company’s society. The king rarely makes public appearances at all, but if he does, him and the hobbit have been spotted together maybe once or twice. What is more, even though Master Baggins lives in the Royal Wing now (as every member of the Company does), and no one questions it being a place well-deserved for him, he isn’t even seen near the king’s quarters (although he’s said to be dropping by the princes’ rooms rather often). His behaviour overall shouldn’t be suspicious or cause the kind of rumours that are floating around... if not for one little detail.

“Perhaps not,” Farí says, “but he still won’t accept any gift from anyone, and you know very well what he said to offers of courtship.” The general raises his eyebrows meaningfully.

This curious affair has been going on ever since everyone moved into the Mountain and, of course, it’s had more and more dwarves intrigued with reasons for such continuous refusal. After all, what more plausible explanation can there be other than that Master Burglar is being courted? And well... who would be more worthy of Master Burglar’s heart if not the King Under the Mountain himself?

“There’s still no braid in his hair, though,” Lyr responds, naming another puzzle of this strange and exciting riddle.

Granted, there were a few willing to put a braid in the hobbit’s hair, but every dwarf who tried was turned down with Master Baggins’s very polite thanks and words of “unwillingness to engage in the matters of the heart”. This justification only fuelled more speculation. 

“Maybe they’ve been courting in secret,” Tuv suggests, and some dwarves in the group seem quite enthusiastic about this idea.

Lyr is not one of them, of course. “Why would they do that?” he questions with a frown.

Tuv shrugs. “I guess they may’ve wanted to take their time to be sure of each other’s affections.”

Just when Lyr is about to argue more, Zahra speaks up. 

“It’s a great opportunity for a wager, if you ask me!” Everyone looks at the general with great interest. “I bet four gold coins that they’ll announce their courtship tomorrow.”

“At the coronation?!” Lyr exclaims, a triumphant glint appearing in his eye, “aw, Zahra, you’re going to lose miserably!”

Farí laughs. “Oh, the mad old coot knows exactly what he’s doing!” He gets two gold coins out of the pocket of his furcoat and passes them to Zahra with a sly smile. “I’m afraid you’ll have to share your money with me. I’m in.”

“Oi!” Zahra protests, “watch your tongue lad, or else I’ll have a talk with your mother!”

“Hah, my mother can see no wrong in me!”

“Damn right you are, spoiled you rotten, she has!”

The two bicker for a while longer but the rest pays it no mind, for they know Farí to be the son of Zahra’s brother, thus their banter has no real heat in it and it never fails to make everybody laugh, too.

When Zahra and Farí stop the show of their familial affections, Tuv, Gêr and Inó express their wish to join the wager and bet on the same that the generals have. Lyr just rolls his eyes in annoyance but there’s nothing he can do... apart from, perhaps, convincing others to take his side. He eyes the two dwarves who have been strangely quiet so far. Casir and Déni both seem rather grim, which is all quite strange, for they have no apparent reason to.

“Déni,” Lyr says, making everyone’s attention turn to the dark-haired dwarf, “are you in?”

“I’m in no mood,” Déni answers, looking down at his pint.

“Oh, come on, just a little sum!” Lyr tries, “you can play safe, nothing wrong with that!”

“It’s not that.”

“What is it, then?”

“And why do you think I gifted the Burglar with my mother’s hairpin?”

A short silence, then a chorus of sympathetic _oohs_ sounds over the table.

Casir takes a swing of his ale and slams his pint on the table in a spectacular fashion, thus stealing Déni’s limelight. “You’re the one to talk,” he says with a slight slur in his voice, “I actually confessed my admiration for him. _To his face_.”

Everyone stills and stares at Casir in shock.

“_Mahal’s beard_, Casir,” Farí breathes out, so bewildered that he can’t manage much more.

Casir nods gloomily, accepting Déni’s sympathetic pat on the shoulder with a grateful but wry smile. “I met him once when he was doing stuff around the camp. The circumstances were actually somewhat private so I kind of... blurted it all out. He just... well. He thanked me... and then basically run away!”

Tuv and Inó fail in their attempt to stifle their giggles. Others seem to be holding back their laughter only barely.

“You know what?” Casir says then, bravely unfazed by the general amusement at his expense, “I’m going to bet on that there’ll be no such announcement tomorrow! At least my mood will improve when I win your money!”

“That’s the spirit!” Lyr cheers.

“Then I bet on the same!” Deni declares.

Lyr cheers again and produces a piece of parchment to write down exactly who bets how much money and on what. In the meantime of getting all the information down, Péni and Alla drop by, and they, too, bet against Zahra’s claim (only as their show of support for Déni, however; they don’t seem in any way opposed to the idea that the king could court the hobbit). The couple then takes poor Déni away so that he wouldn’t hear any more of the subject. Casir seems like he wants to be away from this conversation, too, but spotting a familiar face among those entering the Hall puts a sudden smile on his face.

“Hanna!” he calls loudly and waves his hand.

The dame, who is Casir’s dear friend, turns to the group and starts approaching them with a smile, her husband Ranur following right after her.

When they’re a few steps away, Farí already indulges them in the situation. “We have a nice bet going on, care to join us?”

“Ooh, indeed!” the dame says brightly, while Ranur nods. They sit down and both Farí and Zahra talk about the matter in the detail, making the couple share a considering look.

“Tomorrow?” Hanna repeats, “why, that’s quite soon. I wouldn’t do that if I were them! I bet against it, although I’m not putting in much coin... Some of you know how our folk loves,” she smiles at Ranur sweetly, and her husband beams back, “they shouldn’t rush things, but perhaps His Majesty just can’t wait to share the joy with us!” 

“But just how lovely it is!” Tuv exclaims, “Master Burglar stole the King’s heart!”

Others chuckle, for it _is_ a splendid idea. A stuff of legends, even, and there may or may not be some ideas for songs about it in Inó’s head already. 

“A fine thief indeed.” Zahra nods.

“Don’t be so sure of it yet,” Lyr says then, ruining the mood quite a lot, “you can’t deny it still can be just a friendship!” Seeing the protest on many faces, he quickly adds, “no, don’t argue, you know it can! An epic one, but still a friendship!”

“You could be right,” Hanna admits slowly, “but it seems you haven’t seen Master Burglar’s face when he talks about His Majesty. He’s clearly in love.”

Gêr nods confidently. “Aye, I’ve seen that, too! Master Baggins speaks of him with _great_ admiration.”

Lyr rolls his eyes, but Ranur chimes in before Lyr can comment.

“Just wait until tomorrow,” he says, “and watch the two of them interact. You’ll see for yourself.”

Lyr inclines his head but says nothing more. The subject is dropped for now, although anticipation for tomorrow can be felt in the air. 

The day of the coronation has been long-awaited, and when it finally comes, Durin’s Folk are full of excitement, and our worthy group is, perhaps, even more excited than everyone else, for reasons that should be quite obvious.

The ceremony begins on midday. It’s a grand affair, with only Durin’s Folk being allowed to attend (except for one accomplished hobbit and one well-known Grey Wizard, who showed up a fortnight before the coronation, standing before the gates and demanding to be let in, for he was wishing to see “his hobbit” urgently). The two non-dwarves are the only acceptable exceptions, of course.

Before the three heirs of Durin are crowned, many songs are sung. They range from joyful, through solemn, to sorrowful, since many great warriors were slain during the Battle, and the wounds caused by the loss of them aren’t quite healed yet. 

After the crowns are put on the heads of the king and the princes, the three heirs of Durin lead their cheering people out to the Main Feast Hall. They walk rather slowly, perhaps limping slightly, and their faces may be a bit pale, but they lead still, with the stubbornness and pride that only Durin’s blood knows.

A feast is about to be held, and although their food supplies are limited, the dishes gracing the tables aren’t so measly thanks to the caravan with food from the Iron Hills that managed to make it to Erebor before the snow-in. What is more, the Woodland King has sent them a generous supply of fine Dorwinion wine as a sign of his goodwill. It’s, therefore, no surprise that, after everyone has found a place to sit, the dwarves are impatient to begin feasting. 

It’s, thus, understandable that when the king does not announce the beginning of the feast immediately, many dwarves look around questioningly. Even more confusion arises when the king stands before his people on the dias and beckons at Master Burglar, who joins him at his side. His Majesty smiles then, the first true bright smile appearing on his face that day. Master Baggins smiles right back, and Zahra lets out a quiet chuckle. 

What happens next makes poor Déni and Casir gasp. A murmur passes over the crowd, too, for there, right in front of everyone, King Thorin takes Master Baggins’s hand. The two share a long gaze, the tenderness in their eyes making their devotion for each other unquestionable, and some dwarves actually _coo_ at this lovely sight. Ger, Tuv and Inó are among them, of course.

(It’s also around this point when Lyr starts his grumbling). 

When the king finally tears his eyes away from his Burglar, he addresses his people, “dwarves of Erebor! On this day full of glory I have one more thing to tell you!” His strong voice reverberates through the Hall, loud and clear. “Soon we will start celebration the reclamation of our home, but first, there are some parts of the tale about the Quest that have not been told to you. My experiences, especially, are what I now wish to unveil.” The king and the Burglar share a look before His Majesty goes on, “many sorts of unexpected happened along the road, but it was the hobbit who joined us on the journey who took me by surprise the most. As he kept proving himself to us time and time again, my admiration for him grew, and finally, it set fire to the flame in my heart that some of you may know.”

It’s now rather obvious what the King is talking about. Ger, Tuv and Inó are so thrilled they seem ready to bounce up and down in the air. Hanna and Ranur share a smile of their own, for they know the burning love that the king spoke of.

Lyr is still grumbling to himself. 

“What is more, sometime after the battle I was overjoyed to find that Master Baggins,” King Thorin flashes a quick smile at the Burglar, “reciprocated my affections.”

The Hall fills with whispers at this revelation, although it seems that the crowd is generally more excited than surprised. Tuv, Gêr, Inó, Zahra and Farí already laugh victoriously, while Casir and Déni choose to leave. Lyr’s grumbling has apparently become incessant. 

“So now, dear dwarves of Erebor,” the king raises his voice, regaining everyone’s attention. When all the noise dies down, he grins at his people, happiness and pride clear in all of his demeanour, “I’m even more glad to tell you that me and Master Baggins have decided to start a courtship with full intention of marriage. Rejoice, Durin’s Folk, for your future Consort Under the Mountain stands before you!”

Just a moment of silence passes until there is an absolute _eruption_ of applause. Excluding those few unfortunate individuals who have found themselves harbouring deep admiration for Master Burglar (plus those who have just lost some pretty sums of money in bets), everyone cheers, laughs and claps with all their might.

(There are also many pouches of coin exchanged, even among the Company, which surprises no one).

The royal couple still stands in place, beaming at their people, basking in and sharing the general joy. (They’re very much unfazed by the money flying around, too). 

“I KNEW IT!” Dáin roars happily and moves to embrace his cousin and the hobbit. The princes, the rest of the Company and the Grey Wizard follow with their congratulations, each of them hugging the two. Zahra and Farí bid the pair their good wishes as well, smug grins not leaving their faces for a second.

“Kiss!” someone shouts then, “give us a kiss!”

Other dwarves quickly pick up that idea and soon everybody chants their demand for a kiss. The king’s and the Burglar’s faces turn almost scarlet as they stand, frozen to the spot awkwardly. Their people do not give up, so they have to give in. The king takes the hobbit into his arms and they start leaning in towards each other.

The crowd’s cheer is deafening as the royal couple finally shares a long kiss, both slow and searing. After they break the kiss, they remain in each other’s embrace for a bit, just gazing at one another lovingly.

Some dwarves of the Company and in the crowd may or may not be wiping their tears at this point.

When the hobbit is released from his beloved’s arms and turns to the crowd, smiling, his grin as bright as the sun and his cheeks flushed with uncontained happiness, some dwarves, not only those who lost the bets, think that Master Burglar is a fine thief indeed. 

**Author's Note:**

> This may or may not be too sappy, but I don't care, writing this story was A Joy through and through :D Please give me your thoughts, though! <3 
> 
> (This work is un-beta's, so if you've found any mistakes, please let me know!)


End file.
